A Guest Turtle on a Stormy Day

Yesterday was a day of strange weather and odd portents, and briefly we entertained a guest turtle.

It started off cloudy and windy and cool, with Bow enjoying the great outdoors. Then at one point I noticed that out in the yard, among Brownie's extensive collection of treasured rocks, there was what looked like a turtle shell. So I told Bow I needed to investigate and went into the back yard.

The dogs did not seem too concerned about the turtle shell, which was clamped shut and seemed lifeless, although I could see that someone was still in there by looking through the cracks. I showed Bow the turtle shell, then went to put it out on the front porch, where it would be safe from the dogs.

The turtle still showed no sign of moving, so I left it there and came back later to check. When I returned, it was nowhere to be seen, neither in the spot where I had put it, nor in the immediate vicinity moving away from the house. I spotted a rabbit in the pasture, but no turtle. How fast can a turtle run? I wondered.  Thinking that the turtle was gone for good, I stopped to admire some wild flowers in my front yard.

It was only after I turned around to go back in the house that I spotted the turtle. It was very close to my front door.

The shell was open, and I could see its head looking out through the crack. It was shy but curious.

I went back in and took care of some things for Bow. By now Bow was in the inner pen. Then I brought out some vegetables for the turtle.I left the vegetables by the doorstep and went back inside.

 My friend Pam, who is an expert on both turtles and Jean Laffite,  identified it as a three-toed box turtle.  She suggested I give it fresh corn and berries. I didn't have that, so I opted for cauliflower and cherry tomatoes. But the turtle did not go toward the vegetables. When I returned a little later, he  had already  moved again to put more distance between himself and the food.

I never saw the turtle move. But I did see him in a different location every time I came back. Once he was on top of a sack of  potting mix.

The next time he was in my rock garden next to the porch.

By then, the weather was getting pretty stormy, and it was right after lunch. I cleared away the dishes and told Bow I was going out. Normally, I take my walk right after lunch. But this time I thought I would sit very still with my camera on the front porch and see if I could get some footage of the turtle walking away.

It started to rain, and the turtle was in an uncomfortable place, where all the run-off from the roof goes. Surely he will move now! I thought. But no. He stayed put and for five minutes I watched him do nothing while he was practically buried in water. Finally, I could stand it no more. I fished him out with a sigh and put him on the dry porch cement. Then I went back in to the pen.

When I checked again, the turtle had gone and no search could reveal his whereabouts. I hope he made it safely to the destination of his choice.

When I was little I wanted to adopt every animal I met. But now I am happy to host lots of independent animals on my land, most of whom I will never meet, who are all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.

Bow was unusually calm during this particular storm. He was happy to have me back in the pen, and he even groomed me calmly during a thunderstorm. We were lucky with the weather we got, because people in adjoining areas had it much worse.

From Dawn till Dusk

Bow and I have a fairly peaceful life here, from dawn till dusk. The sun rises behind out woods, and we get up and have breakfast in the inner pen. And then, after all the dishes are cleared and our morning email has been checked, Bow asks to go outside.

Bow is a very quiet fellow most of the time, but he does have to get a certain things off his chest before he can become calm again and enjoy the quiet contemplation of nature.

Most of the time Bow is happy and satisfied and calm and satisfied.

We have lunch at noon.

Bow eats heartily.

After I clear the lunch dishes, Bow allows me to go for a walk. In fact, if I don't show signs that I am going, he kind of pushes me gently toward the door.

Yesterday afternoon on my walk, I spotted a butterfly in the second cherry tree.

My friend Kathy identified it as a Western Tiger Swallowtail.

Kathy is planning to come see us soon, but I decided to give everyone else a tour of the orchard here.

When I get back to the pen, I usually show Bow the footage I have shot. He watches it with interest, then asks to go outside again.

Usually Bow is quiet and happy outside, except when he thinks he sees intruders. For instance, today a young fellow on an ATV stopped by to ask if we needed our grass mowed. I told him we already have someone helping us with that. Bow was very upset that this stranger was there.

When the mowers he knows come, he wants to talk to them. He also protests if anyone he doesn't know is  helping them with their work. Everything has to be predictable, and only personnel that Bow has approved can be on the property.

If the neighbors drive heavy farm equipment with no muffler on the adjoining property, Bow gets annoyed. Of course, they have every right to do that. And Bow has every right to protest very loudly every time they do.

However, most of the time it is very quiet outside, and the birds chirp and the dogs frolic, and Bow is happy. The pea plants reach up toward the sun and send tendrils out looking for something to climb on.

I am not yet sure if it would be a good idea to allow them to climb the grid of the pen, but I bet that is already what they are plotting to do.

Bow has a snack at 3:00 pm, and we have dinner at five o'clock, and  then after clearing the dishes, we unwind. By 6:30 or so, Bow is ready to go to bed. If I delay in closing up shop in the pen, he reminds me. I sing him a lullaby and leave him with his blankets and rug, and he is happy. After Bow has gone to bed, I can go for another walk. In the dusk, birds sing their good night calls and moths flock around the redbud tree next to our house.

It's a pretty good life.